Call me old fashioned, but the iconic superspy series shouldn’t be shaken or stirred.

Recently, after it became clear that whiny Daniel Craig wouldn’t be back for another romp as 007, this hashtag appeared on Twitter: #NextBond.

Yes, let the people decide! When have they ever gotten it wrong?

The usual suspects were named — Idris Elba, Clive Owen and belle-of-the-Brit-ball Tom Hiddleston. But the real head-scratcher was the winner: Gillian Anderson.

Don’t get me wrong: The “X-Files” star is a phenomenal actress, and quite versatile. Through June 4, you can catch her at Brooklyn’s St. Ann’s Warehouse in “A Streetcar Named Desire,” as Blanche DuBois, a role about as far removed from cool and collected Agent Dana Scully as you can get. And, as evidenced by this social media shocker, she has a fervent fan base. Count me among them. Anderson would make a terrific spy.

But she shouldn’t play James Bond. No woman should.

Bond is Bond, take him or leave him.

Ask anybody, man or woman, who his or her favorite James Bond actor is and the answer will usually be Sean Connery, the most misogynistic 007 of the lot.

That’s because Bond is first and foremost about masculinity. He’s Manliness Concentrate. He’s practically a parody of dudedom. That’s his raison d’être.

Bond is first and foremost about masculinity. He’s Manliness Concentrate. He’s practically a parody of dudedom.

You know the scenario: 007 meets a seductress double-agent at a blackjack table in Monte Carlo, Monaco, over Moët and martinis, has sex with her under a polar bear fur duvet, abandons her with a quip and then kills some schmucks in the hallway.

Fun, right? Yes! Such evenings don’t happen in real life because it’s a frivolous action flick, not a gender studies course at Oberlin. And in the overcrowded spy genre, all 007 has going for it is that carefree, unapologetic nostalgia value.

Audiences go into the theater with a list of expectations: Tux? Check! Martini? Check! Exotic women conquests? Check Check Check! Toss out those elements and all you’re left with is a standard thriller and an iconic surname. Why bother?

The 007 series isn’t some protest or flashy congressional filibuster. There’s no social commentary here. If that’s what you want, try “Carol” or “Spotlight.”

With a Jane Bond, the movies would be fundamentally different; every joke and chase would be scrutinized and politically corrected within an inch of its fictional life. Out goes the escapism and joy, in goes Charlie Rose and talkbacks.

So please, Hollywood, write more spy movies and TV shows for women. After all, the first two seasons of Jennifer Garner’s “Alias” were more exciting and creative than any James Bond movie since “Goldeneye.” Or have a woman play a gender-neutral character like the driving force of “Mission Impossible.” The less Tom Cruise, the better.

But don’t rely on a tired 54-year-old franchise to drive home your point. Your only aim should be making a spy movie that kicks James Bond’s ass.